The Winter Palace
by Aspect of One
Summary: It will not be the cold that will kill you. It is the deceit, your naivety, and the misplacement of trust that will. Welcome to the 32nd Hunger Games!
1. When They Cry I

**I do not own the Hunger Games**

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**Prologue Part I**

_**I will say "Please one chance", although it would be nice to let things remain the way they are. **_

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**Tribute of the 31st Hunger Games**

**Arva Freire**

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"Juniper Colan," Arva spat.

"Oh, you finally said my name," his voice sounded strangely faint to her.

Arva looked up, saw the sickle's tip right in front of her face. She paled. This was it. This was the end of her. But instead of letting her dread be known, she settled for a bitter laugh instead. She tried to move away, but her limbs collapsed under her, causing her to hit the ground with a sound thud. No...she did not want to go out like this; lying prone at her enemy's feet. It was the last thing she wanted when she was reaped.

"Funny, don't you think?" she said. Numbness started to spread throughout her. She did not know if that numbness was from acceptance or her body giving out. She did not particularly care. "That in the end, it's just the two of us. And we're both from outlier districts."

"Really? I don't really think so. The Careers destroyed themselves."

"You killed that guy from Seven," she choked out.

"I did," Juniper agreed. He still sounded as neutral as always to her.

Arva remembered slapping Juniper during training. She never thought she would ever meet someone who could ignite such burning hatred in her. That emptiness within him that she saw in him when her district partner introduced them to each other disgusted her. Though they allied, she had hoped Juniper would die quickly. And throughout their time with each other in the arena, it hardly seemed as if the male from Eleven changed at all. He was still as detached as when she first met him.

It disgusted her that someone could murder three people without blinking an eye. Without seemingly feeling guilty.

"I hate you." It came out softer than intended.

"I know." And then, unbelievably, she heard his voice shake as he spoke his next words. "I hate myself too."

Arva thought she knew despair. She never thought a few words could convey more despair than she had ever known. Her lips curled into a sad smile. In the end, despite the days with each other, she never really got to knew him, did she? The numbness had spread throughout her entire body by now. It was making her sleepy. Vaguely, she remembered that she was poisoned earlier. Then, that detail suddenly seemed so inconsequential and out of the blue that she started laughing. Laughing until tears rolled down her cheeks.

_I'm crying, _she thought faintly_._

This was pathetic.

"Just kill me already," she sobbed, already losing the feeling in her tongue. "At least give me a merciful death."

The Capitol must be enjoying it, she realised. She could not even gather up the strength to be bitter about that.

"You're the Victor, Juniper. You..." she faltered

You deserve it? Was that really the right thing to say? Who deserved to be Victor?

"You earned it," she finished.

"I did."

That flatness again.

God, how she hated him.

"Arva," he began. She tried to growl at him to hurry it up, but her voice failed her. At this rate, the poison would kill her first. Somewhere in her, for reasons unknown, she refused to die because of that. "I like you. You're everything I'm not. You're...alive."

She was too tired to even look surprised.

"Thank you," he said at last, after a lengthy pause.

Arva hoped that when she entered the afterlife, she would be able to meet her family.

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**A/N: And here is the rewritten version of The Winter Palace! I already have all the tributes and the tribute list is below :). Thank you to all who have let me use their tribute again. I will be using Measured In Blood's (written by jakey121) format for this. **

**The prologue was originally supposed to be done with in one, but it would feel too much of a loose end without a part two, so the next chapter will be the prologue part two which should be up tomorrow. After that, we'll jump straight into the reapings!**

**Next chapter: Prologue Part II**

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_Tribute list:_

**District One-**

Male: Constantin Dupont, 17

Female: Duchess Blackmore, 18

**District Two-**

Male: Basilius Fulgora, 18

Female: Viola Windsor, 17

**District Three-**

Male: Tadhg Neira, 14

Female: Faiska Noyce, 17

**District Four-**

Male: Caine Dalit, 18

Female: Amanda Teslin, 17

**District Five-**

Male: Petri Alwis, 14

Female: Merino Khaki Shiveks, 15

**District Six-**

Male: Caspian Cohen, 16

Female: Wyvern Blaine, 17

**District Seven-**

Male: Birch Goldenwood, 12

Female: Amber Cheswick, 13

**District Eight-**

Male: Rayon Lausan, 18

Female: Abrielle Thayer, 18

**District Nine-**

Male: Drystan Raya, 16

Female: Antheia Bloodhart, 15

**District Ten-**

Male: Dutch Gray, 18

Female: Havyn Woodlands, 15

**District Eleven-**

Male: Julian Millefiolia, 14

Female: Acadia Lucern, 17

**District Twelve-**

Male: Verne Ortega, 17

Female: Augusta Rorer, 14


	2. When They Cry II

**Prologue Part II**

_**My tears ran dry a long time ago. The words I want to spew out are...**_

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**Victor of the 31****st**** Hunger Games  
Juniper Colan**

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"You look perfect," Juniper's stylist gushed.

He looked at her, already having forgotten her name. Winking at him, she gave him a thumbs-up. Juniper thought she looked gaudy. She was so...bright. From her neon pink skin to her multi-coloured clothing. It hurt his eyes to look at her. But he did not particularly care, could not bring himself to care. He turned back to the mirror to take in his cleaned up self. He stopped caring a long time ago.

"Good luck, Juni!" she crowed as she started to head towards the door. "Kilena will be wanting to see you, so go out and meet her!"

The door closed with a click.

Juniper touched his blood-red tie. Everyone he killed ran crimson. Crimson against the white ground; just like his tie against his dress shirt. Why, he wondered, could he not feel anything about the lives he took? Maybe Arva was right. Maybe Arva really did see him for he was. His hand fell away from the tie.

He was an empty shell.

"Juniper?"

The soft voice made him jump. He whirled around, fists already coming up to protect him. His vision hazed over as adrenaline charged through him.

"I'm sorry," the person apologised.

The voice sounded familiar. He faltered. His vision cleared, senses returning to him. A tanned, petite woman stood in front of him, dark brown eyes calmly gazing at him. He relaxed. It was only his mentor; Kilena. Then, he remembered he was already out of the arena. No one wanted to hurt him anymore.

He was safe.

He was _safe_.

He shivered.

"I-" he began before abruptly cutting himself off.

"It's fine," Kilena reassured him. "I understand. It takes a while before you can get out of there."

The only thing he did was nod. He looked back at the mirror. His Victor's interview would be soon. Could he smile? Did he even smile in his last interview? Everything felt hazy.

"What do I do?" he finally asked.

There was a lengthy silence before Kilena answered.

"Do what you have to do."

"That's helpful." It lacked a biting tone.

"We're nothing more than entertainment for them," she replied.

"Did they find Yvette's suicide entertaining?"

It was a low blow. Yvette was District Eleven's mentor before she 'offed herself' as Juniper had so succintly put it before.

He turned to look at Kilena after he said that, saw her stiffen. There was no satisfaction from that. All he wanted was to be left alone, and if angering Kilena made it happen, he would. Sudden frustration from nowhere had surged up in him, now coursing steadily through him. He didn't want any of this. He didn't want...he didn't want... Juniper stared down at his hands. What _did_ he want?

"Do it your way, Juniper," Kilena finally said, voice steady but her shaking fists told otherwise. "If you don't want to stand out, try not to do anything that will. They'll focus on you even more."

"Nah, I'll just kill myself and make headlines about you being the lone Victor of Eleven." He sounded hollow even to his own ears.

"Ju-"

He interrupted her. "I'm not stupid, okay? I know what I need to do. Just leave already, I'll get my ass up on stage and give them what they want to see." Dimly, he realised that he was acting like a brat. But it felt like too much trouble to care.

Truthfully, he didn't even know what the Capitolites wanted to see. He didn't even know how he would react. All he knew was that it did not entirely feel like it was him talking now. It felt like he was floating, detached from his body, and watching this stranger speak using his voice and appearance. Then again, it was not as if he really knew who or what he was anyway.

"You're not alone, Juniper."

Kilena touched his shoulder and squeezed it. His heart fluttered a little at that before he quashed it. Turning, he saw her start to leave.

He was not alone.

He had someone.

His thoughts went back to Arva, at everything she called him. At what he told her before he killed her. She should have been Victor. Someone so dead did not deserve to be Victor.

"Thank you," he mumbled.

Kilena stopped and turned to look at him.

"I don't wish the loneliness of a Victor on anyone. And you're no different, Juniper. I...heard of many things about you." She shook her head. "No, never mind, those don't matter anymore. You should go anyway, it's almost time for the interview."

For the first time in a long while, Juniper smiled. A smile that made his heart warm. He had forgotten how this warmth felt like.

"Thank you," he enunciated.

She merely shook her head, and gestured towards the door.

"You don't have to thank me."

He started walking, then stopped. When he goes up on stage, he would have to face the lights. Lights...flashing lights... His hands grew clammy.

"A-about the li-lights," he stammered out. It was unlike him to stammer, but he could feel panic start to set in. Those lights would blind him, and then it would be back to that time aga-

"Juniper," Kilena's voice cut in sharply, grounding him again. When she spoke again, it was gentler. "Don't focus on the lights. Focus on Caesar, do your best not to think about it though I know it's hard when it's just right there. You're no longer in the arena. You're here, you're safe."

Mentally, it still felt as if he _was_.

Verbally, he said, "Alright."

Her doubtful look told him that she did not believe him. He knew. She understood after all.

Swallowing, he resumed walking to the door.

"I'm going now."

"I'll accompany you all the way there," she said as they left the room together.

His hand found hers as they walked, trying to take comfort in what little he had.

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**A/N: And the second part of the prologue! I hope all of you enjoyed this. **

**Next chapter: Reapings Part I**


End file.
